


Assholes above the clouds

by iiStarnet



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pain, Show Me Your Dick Steve, its more likely than you think, just dudes being guys, just guys being dudes, paultryck??? in my 2018???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 22:31:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16543541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiStarnet/pseuds/iiStarnet
Summary: dude being a pilot must fucking suck. constantly flying, and shit, with nothing but airline food. and the ear popping shit? horrendous. absolute garbage. lets pass the time by insulting our boss bro.





	Assholes above the clouds

**Author's Note:**

> now, i dont really ship paultryck. 1, its not really my thing, and 2, all the shit that went down in the fandom. but you know what fuck it, my ao3 account, my fics

"Make sure you deliver the supplies on time."

"Yes Commander."

"I'm looking at your gas level, you should be good for a flight there and back, 3 times over. No pit stops. Understand?"

"Yes Commander."

"And Paul?"

_"Yes Commander?"_

"Keep your hands to yourself, If red leader finds **ONE** more stain on those seats, there will be hell to pay. For all three of us."

Paul's face went red, and Patryck started snort-laughing. He knew damn well that Tord was serious, but the wording of the sentence made it hilarious to him.

"Understand Paul?"

"...Yes Tord."

"Good luck."

With that, Paul threw the comm. back in its place, face still red. He then snapped his head to the left.

"For FUCK'S sake, can you please stop laughing!?"

Patryck attempted to silence his laughter, succeeded somewhat, and cleared his throat to speak.

"I know he's serious but the fucking way he said it! _'OnE mOrE tImE!!'_ Patryck returned to giggling, as the military plane took off.

Paul still didn't find it very funny.

"I don't know why that asshole has to shout over the fucking communicator about it! And who is he to talk? He's the one out of our group that spends the most time jacking off to Japanese cartoon characters!"

Although Patryck was still losing his shit, he could calm himself enough to correct his co-pilot. "It's called _Hentai_ , Paul."

"I don't give a shit about what its called, its nasty! Some of those girls look 15! It's like you took a freshman in high school, dyed her hair to the _entire fucking rainbow_ and gave her watermelon tits!"

" **pFFT-GAHA-HA!** " Patryck was hollering at this point. His Co-pilot was certainly lightening up the mood by insulting his commander. Paul decided to keep up the good feelings.

"I mean honestly, he reads that shit with a face straighter than _himself!_ Like a fucking magazine. Red Leader tells us to take a break from our drills and he- he fucking lays back, puts his feet up and indulges in Asian erotica. Featuring tentacles!" Patryck was cackling like a god-damn witch, and Paul interrupted his ranting by giggling at his own insults. After a few seconds of this feel-good atmosphere, it suddenly becomes quieter as Patryck stops laughing and winces as he holds his ears in each hand.

"What's wrong?" Paul's chuckling ceased immediately, even though he had a pretty good idea what happened.

"Ugh... My fucking ears popped." Patryck replied.

"Ah jeez, hold on." Paul said, as he started fishing in his brown coat. He pulled out a pack of gum. He looked up to meet Patryck's confused gaze.

Paul proceeded to explain. "It helps with the ear pain, you like the watermelon flavor, right?"

"Oh. Uh yeah, thanks." Patryck took the pack of gum from his co-pilot, and relaxed while chewing a stick of watermelon-flavored sugar.

To Patryck's dismay, it didn't help as much as he thought it would have, but it made for a good distraction from the pain, combined with the constant checking of every part of the cockpit.

About 10 minutes of awkward but also comfortable silence passed, when Paul decided to break the silence.

"Wait, we're heading to Moscow, right?"

Patryck checked the radar and coordinates. "Yep, Moscow, in the land of _Mother Russia_." He finished the sentence with a heavy Russian accent. "25 hours to go, Christ." Paul replied. "Yep, and 25 hours back, for some fucking missiles." Patryck grumbled. "I just don't get it. Tord's been boasting about the fact he built a giant-ass robot in only 8 years. Why can't he make his own missiles? I bet if he actually put some fucking effort he could even make an atomi-" Patryck was cut off by the plane turbulence. They were starting to pass into the Southwest part of Sweden, which was currently enveloped in a thunder storm. Although they were above the clouds, a strong gust of air shook the plane. The two pilots went silent, as the plane began to shake less and less.

"Yeesh, that unexpected." Paul gestured out the window. "Blue skies, above the clouds, and still felt that shit. Unbelievable." He looked over to Patryck. He still looked frightened from the turbulence. He was a good pilot, and knew damn the risks of flying. It just always seemed to give him the shakes when it actually happens.

Paul let out a small sigh. He reached over to Patryck's hand and held it in his own. Patryck turned his head to face him, and smiled. His head then faced forwards to keep an eye on all the gears and screens on his side of the cockpit.

Although these long trips were boring, and honestly a complete load of shit, they always felt better when it was just the two of them. No annoying scrawny Norwegian to bark orders at them. 

It almost made up for the long trip they were embarking on.

 


End file.
